The Black Inquisitor
by Raxychaz
Summary: Pirate by trade. Mage through a secluded bloodline and smug bastard with impeccable dress sense, completely by choice. It will be an interesting experience to see how the 'righteous' accept a 'degenerate rogue' leading them.
1. Chapter 1

_Ever experienced sensory overload?_

 _I have. It sucks donkey dick. There are few times I can just get fucking unbearably irritable. Those times are when I've gone too long without sleep, or the same without food. Pretty standard right? Not much to wave around at a party, how about being plucked up by some random fucking green tear in the air and being popped out in some funky ass ruins, unfortunately having my shirt burn off-_ my favourite shirt! _-and taking an orb with the density of a dying fucking star to the chest._

 _Fuck today man, I just can't even._

Bleary eyes opened, the dim light provided by torches hitched onto the wall useless at the moment. The ground was hard, stone actually. His arms wouldn't respond to any commands he'd given them so he remained face down on the ground, throwing all his weight to the side he rolled onto his back and was able to breath a great deal easier, black hair clouded his vision but he didn't bother to blow it away he was exhausted, every muscle in his body felt like it was completely spent and he was thoroughly fatigued.

The idle chill of the cold ground was not exactly unpleasant against his overheated body, but it wasn't the greatest sensation to be touching a who knows how dirty floor with his bare skin. Ugh. How he wished for a shirt, too much to ask? Probably.

"Sweet dark, what have I done to deserve all this shit?" Asked the young man to the low lit room, rhetorical of course but it seems the door being flung open were about to provide him with his answer, a few heavy steps and he was hauled up to his knees. "Delicate as expected." He murmured, flicking his hair back to reveal a fair skinned young man with eyes like molten gold. Green markings dotted his chest and flowed to the palms of his hands. The markings thrummed gently with each beat of his heart.

He was well toned to be sure, looking like the athletic type that could also snap your neck if he flexed in your general direction. The sounds of swords being sheathed reached his ears, he looked around to see four men all clad in leathers with stupid looking helmets on their heads and scowled.

"You fuckers were there the whole time and didn't even bother to help me up?" He questioned with a snarl, only to receive a whack to the head from the she-hulk in black armour, her skin was tanned and she had a scar on her cheek, dark eyes and short black hair.

"You don't get to ask questions, we do. First one, tell me why we shouldn't kill you now?" She asked, Nevarran eh?. "The Conclave is destroyed, everyone who attended is dead. Except... for you." She finished her little prance about with a firm point right to his face.

It was now he noticed the other woman, sporting chainmail/leather armour with a hood that flowed to some faux tabard. It looked fucking rediculous. She had dark red, straight hair that looked to fall to her ears but the hood obscured a lot. Bright blue eyes that looked to wield the mask of sympathy.

"Better idea, you tell me who the fuck you are, why I'm shackled and what the fuck all that green shit was when I blacked out, and we'll have us a peachy little conversation." He shot back with a dry tone, bright gold eyes burrowing into coal black, her lip curled at this and she struck him again. This garnered a small chuckle in response.

"I'm not the kind of person you half heartedly torture sunshine, you either ask nicely, or I'm going to hang you by your insides on the nearest fucking tree." He said, a bright smile on his face that unnerved a few of the guards.

The redhead stepped in.

"We need him reasonable, Cassandra." Chastised the redhead.

"Yeah, Cassandra." He goaded childishly. Thoroughly amused, she growled at him but the redhead cooled her off.

"What do you remember?" She asked.

"Many things, my name. Where I was born, my birthday. Gotta be more specific sunshine." He informed, the woman sighed at his constant difficulty but persevered.

"Let's start with your name, and then the last thing you remember before falling unconscious."

"I am Menma, of the Uzumaki Clan. You might have heard of me. As to what I was doing? Walking through the woods outside of the port, soaking up a bit of nature before we set sail again." He said, an easy smile on his face.

"You're a Pirate!?" Snapped the brunette, oh shit we in it now boys!

"I am! See, I knew you'd have heard of me!" He said with a laugh.

"As in the Black Prince of Piracy?" Asked the redhead, curiosity getting the better of her for a moment. "What could you have been doing at the conclave?"

"Therein lies the question doesn't it? What would a pirate want with a religious summit? Nothing. The answer is fucking nothing. I don't care for your sky daddy nor do I care for your upjumped priests, I was sucked up by some green tear, copped a fuckin' orb to the chest, got some sweet tattoo's out of it and then woke up in this thoroughly accommodating cell with four men brandishing swords at me. Now, can I go and get some clothes and food because I'm about ready to flip my tits." He gradually spoke faster as he was quickly losing his patience.

It was always remarkable to see people shudder at his name, it did carry a lot of weight but it wasn't like he ruled the seas... yet. Black Prince was a little unoriginal, yes he liked to wear black and he had black hair but it was so cliché!

Cassy sweetums let out a suffering sigh and shook her head. "Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I'll take him to the rift... and get you a shirt." Assured the raven haired woman as she unshackled him, Leliana left the room with a nod. Menma barely managed to get up to his feet. "What's wrong with you?" Asked the woman, not expecting such pathetic stumbling from someone with so much vigor not seconds ago.

"I feel sore all over." He grunted in response. As he followed her out the door he was given sight to a little shanty town.

"Holy fucking shit!" Shouted the Pirate with wide eyes, a great green vortext in the sky sucking up debris. "I love the colour green but that's a bit much." He continued, a great deal more subdued than the previous outburst. His father had green eyes as did his little sister, he inherited his eyes from his grandmother and hair from grandfather, poor ol' mum was still sore he was a bustling little redhead.

"We call it the Breach." Informed Cassandra, grabbing a shirt and tossing it to him, with a grunt he fought his angry muscles and slipped it on, nothing overtly fancy but it'd suffice until he could get back to his ship. Now all he needed was a bloody weapon.

Who used swords- _only swords!_ -nowadays anyway. This army was ridiculous, even if it was a militia that didn't excuse lack of spears. Tsk tsk tsk. Bloody plebs.

The Breach released a burst of energy and the markings on his own body responded, Menma grit his teeth and laughed in the face of pain, "Oh that's fucking wonderful!" He barked out through clenched teeth, shaking himself loose as he felt the seizing of his body cease. Cassandra raised a brow, possibly impressed he didn't keel over from shock, she gestured he follow her.

"It appeared after the explosion at the Conclave, your markings are the key to closing it, but do not be fooled they are killing you." Assured the woman. Menma rose a brow, they didn't feel that bad, truth be told, sure he felt fucking buggered at the moment but nothing a good nap and slamming some brekky wouldn't fix.

Cassandra prattled on about some old bitty, he wasn't paying attention. Looking around and ignoring everything else. She turned to him at some point and gave him a solid stare that wavered ever so slightly, "There will be a trial, that is all I can promise."

"The evidence is subjective and circumstantial at best, no one with half a brain would convict me. Then again I am surrounded by the faithful so I doubt I'll be living past the day." He barbed at her faith intentionally, a lot could be told from how people reacted to people poking fun at their beliefs or things they held dear.

Someone was insecure it seemed, as the death glare she gave him was positively cheeky. "That attitude of yours little missy, I could do without it." He lectured with a shake of the head, clicking his tongue at her like a disappointed parent.

She brushed him off in favour of directing him, they passed some checkpoint and started up a snowy path. Thank the seas he had his fabulous cuffed boots still, he'd hardly be able to be called a pirate without them. The fact they were wyvernhide was something he did enjoy lording over people with inferior shoes.

He missed his gloves though. A shame. Without them his puckish rogue persona suffered.

 **A Short While Later**

Demons were fun and all but Menma much prefered not having them poping about, he'd startled poor Cassy by freezing one of the poor fuckers, without a staff. Because honestly who was so obvious as to use a staff? Stupid people that's who.

She was still a salty little sourpuss that she was.

The pair of them leapt over the wall to assist the new crew, a pair of dwarves and an elf, the elf looking like elves typically do, lanky and sad. He was bald and looked like he'd seen ages pass him by. The male dwarf was clad in a duster and wielded a repeating crossbow, and bearing his manly chest to the world.

The other was a stout young miss with a bow as big as she, adorable freckles and bright blue eyes, her orange-brown hair tied into a bun, she sported simple armour, most likely for mobility and minor protection, a scout perhaps?

Menma lifting his arms up and froze two Shades, Cassandra charging in like a bull and slamming her shield into one, shattering it, the dwarven duo blasting the other to little bits, Menma hopped down and was immediately nabbed by the elf who dragged his arm up and pointed his palm at the rift, Menma felt his whole body pull towards it, both his hand rising up unbidden and channeling green energy into the rift, knitting the tear closed.

It closed with an implosion making the Mage Pirate stumble back and greedily suck in air, he felt a flux of raw energy fill his core, soothing his aching muscles. "Splendid." He grumbled shaking himself out once more and trying to banish this ache.

"I had theorized the Mark bestowed upon you by the Breach's magic could also close the rifts, I am happy to say I was correct." Said the elf man with a smile.

"You mean it could close the Breach?" Asked Cassandra with a hopeful, but restrained, stride to her step, as she walked closer to the conversation.

"So it would seem, it appears you hold the key to our salvation."

"Well the roguish Prince of Pirates _would_ be the key wouldn't he." Came the amused chuckle of the man dwarf, Menma grinned and did a little theatrical bow.

"It's fabulous to see you in such prime condition, Varric." Menma replied, the dwarf waved him off, "Never took you for a church man." Straightening out and placing his hands on his hips the magus seafarer raised a brow.

"I'm more of a prisoner, like yourself. And uninvited tagalong." Cassandra gave a repusled noise, Menma immediately shot the man a wink and grin. Before turning his attention to the Elf on his side.

"I am Solas, if there are to be introductions, I am pleased to see you still live." Menma offered the man his hand, the elf took it after a moment of hesitation.

"What he means by that is 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept'." Supplied Varric.

"Like you, Solas is an Apostate." Added Cassandra.

"We're all technically apostates now." Replied Solas,

"Well either way, cheers for the effort mate." Offered Menma as he tuned out the Mage and the Zealot rolling his eyes he shifted his gaze and turned to the she-dwarf.

"And you darling, got a name?" He asked with a smile that had melted queens.

"Lace Harding, pleasure." Greeted the woman with a matched smirk.

Oh she was just a treat.

 **The Forward Camp**

Menma tossed open the doors to the 'Forward Camp' if it could be called that, more like an assembly on a bridge and some tents near the entrance to some ruins. "Weapon, weapon, weapon..." Murmured the Pirate with a frown, swords, swords and more fucking swords!

This made him a very sad little sea-dog. Some Cleric was talking smack about him but he was ignoring the man, in favour of staring at the Breach, the ominous fracture in the previously gorgeous sky was an affront to any sailing man, but the sheer exhilaration he felt, the power coursing through his veins, it made him feel like a child again, endless energy and full of wonder.

"...I hereby order you to take this Criminal to Val Royeaux to be tried and executed!" Ordered the stuffy little man, this drew Menma's attention.

"You? Order me, you are a glorified clerk, a bureaucrat." Snapped the warrior woman, Menma looked at the man, up and down, he annoyed him already. So he clocked him right in the facehole, the man was sent tumbling over a table whilst Cassy-darling sighed and facepalmed.

"So what do we do now?" Asked the Pirate Prince with a grin.

 **Temple Ruins**

A big Pride Demon was being quite the motherfucker, Menma had to draw on magic he'd never touched and learn as he went, not the hardest given the adrenaline pumping through his veins making it easier to concentrate, but still it had to be noted he had no idea what he was doing.

"Archers, aim for the eyes!" Ordered the Pirate Mage, drawing magic directly from the Fade in the Breach and creating a great tide to thrash against the demon, Solas took the idea the elf mage smirked at the Pirate as the pair froze the waters, pinning the beast.

"I'm going to try and sap some power from the Breach!" Said Menma over the clashing of steel against ethereal flesh and the screams of those around them, Solas nodded as Menma thrust his arms up and links of green shot into the rift below the breach, that had spawned the Pride demon.

"Fire explosive shots!" Ordered an archer on the wall overlooking the troops that stood between them and the demons running rampant. Explosions began to litter the demons head it roared in pain, managing to free its arm and release a whip of electricity to sweet across the field, sending several of those on their side to collapse due to shocks.

"Solas, can you heal them?" Asked Menma as he kept drawing more and more power, his sclera turning a bright green as the veins in his arms pulsed rapidly.

"I can, but it will not be enough. I am running low." Said the elf as he summoned up the remaining remnants of his power to heal the soldiers, Cassandra and Cullen, the commander of the soldiers, were the first on their feet, the ex-Templar swept his arms out and released a burst of pseudo-magic, purging the electricity from his comrades.

"Stand back, this is gonna be bright." Said the Pirate, getting a curious gaze from the elf, ceasing the sapping of power Menma pulled all the power back into himself before releasing it into a duet of emerald beams of chaotic death that ripped the Pride demon apart, shaking himself of the lightheadedness that followed the Black Prince leapt over the balcony and onto 'ground zero' running forward towards the Breach he roared, releasing a burst of green magic that ate into the demons around him, before skidding to a halt and thrusting his arms up.

"Close you giant fuck!" Menma ordered, gritting his teeth as all the magic he'd sucked up was being pulled out of him and being used to seal the rift that spat out the demon, as it was probably the biggest rift he'd seen thus far, it didn't go to well.

Well it did and it didn't.

For everyone else, they saw a giant salvo of green shoot into the sky and stifle the breach from growing, sufficiently stilling it and placing a very thin barrier around it, for the layman it was sealed. For those who were more expereienced with bullshit magic, it was weakened.

For Menma it meant blacking the fuck out.

 **Three Days Later**

Oh sweet comforting dark, this bed was amazing. Fuck everything else right now, he was thoroughly enjoying his rest. The cool air was perfect for wrapping up in the covers, sinking into the bed further he positioned the pillow so he could both hug it and rest his head on it. While he did enjoy the occasional dalliance, he preferred sleeping on his own.

A soft caw drew his attention, cracking open a single golden eye he was given sight to a crow sitting happily on his new bedside table, it then began nibbling at his hair, attempting to rouse him. "Karasu... you always did know how to find me. Strange little bird that you are." The Pirate said fondly, reaching out with a finger to stroke the creatures breast, it ruffled at the touch and hopped onto his finger, then hopped all the way down his arm and nestled into the crook of his neck, fluffed out to gather as much warmth as possible.

The sound of soft footsteps drifted into his ears, Menma cracked open an eye to see an elven woman, a little squirrely but still not bad. Short brown-red hair, wearing mostly red with a brown leather vest and darker leather pants, rather nondescript boots.

"Is it time to get up?" Asked the Pirate with a yawn, the crow cawing and hopping down to the foot of the bed, he did love how the little creature hopped in place of flying most of the time. It was just goofy enough to be cute.

The woman began rambling about how he was some 'Herald' and she needed to inform Cassandra, Menma shook his head and got out of the bed, only to notice his clothes were different, "Who the fuck dressed me?..." His eyes widened when he pat around his waist, "Who changed my underwear?" The crow cawed at him in what sounded like a laugh, Menma frowned at the creature and looked at the chest across from him, popping it open it revealed his old clothes, all pristine and in tip-top condition.

"Now I'm confused, but also I don't care. Getting this trashy ponce stuff off me." Stripping down to his skivvies and pulling on a white dress shirt, slipping on his dark leather, fur collared coat, he adjusted it and sighed contently, unlike most plebs he sported a fabulous hat with several dark coloured feathers, mostly from Karasu, stuck into the side. Black cloth trousers and his black cuffed boots finished off his attire, the only thing left was a dusky grey sash to hold up his pants, and last but not least he plucked his gloves out of the chest be slipped them into his belt.

Adjusting his hat the Pirate nodded to himself, slipping on a bandoleer, accessories made the outfit kiddies, that and they were filled with poisonous flasks...

No one expected it when they got an acid flask to the face.

Holding a hand out the flapping of wings entered his ears, Karasu perching on his shoulder as he opened the door and was beset by the grateful applause of dozens, Menma blinked shouts of gratitude washed over him, a path was opened in the crowd, Menma took the que and began walking through the crowd, receiving claps on the back and people continued to sing his praises as he made his way up the chapel, oh lovely.

He like the buildings, they were usually beautiful if you ignored all the bullshit they stood for. Though his eyes did rise skyward and he spotted the Breach, it was a great deal calmer than before, it looked even prettier than before.

 **Haven Chantry, Interior**

Walking up to the door he hear voices, that failed abortion of a cleric and Cassandra. Apparently the Seeker was endeared to him somewhat as she was adamantly defending him, with a shrug he opened the door and stepped in, the Nevarran was surprised to see his clothing more than him, Leliana gave him a once over and had a small hum of approval leave her, unbidden from the look on her face when he caught her stare with a grin.

"Chain him! He will be transported to Val Royeux immediately." Ordered Roderick of the two Templars flanking the door, they exchanged looks and the Pirate smiled.

"I _love_ your armour, but I gotta ask, wouldn't you be able to move better if you added some splits to the robes?" Asked Menma, the two looked over his shoulder at one another and then at themselves, "Good idea, am I right or am I right?"

"Aye a sound plan, we'll head off to the smith and see what he can do, are we to leave, Seeker Pentagast?" Asked Templar 1, Cassandra nodded and waved them off, "Have a good day, Herald." The two saluted before leaving.

"Well those a pair of charming young chaps, so what can I do for you Cassy-dear?" Asked Menma ignoring the red faced dickhead in the room. Cassandra was caught between smirking and grimacing.

"You walk a dangerous line, Seeker." Snarled the Chancellor, Menma shot the man a look but remained silent, Cassandra met the cloth clad man with equal venom.

"The Breach is stable, but still a threat. I do not intend to ignore that." Cassandra shot a glance to her side and idly glanced at the pulsing green markings on Menma's hands, he'd forgone is gloves for the moment, he usually only wore them when he was steering the ship, or holding his weapon.

A shame that the little box didn't have his beautiful trident. How he missed his dear little Neptune. His own fault for leaving it on the ship. "How long was I asleep, stifling that great green mess was quite painful."

"And yet you survived it, rather convenient in your case." Roderick said with a narrow gaze.

"Of course it your simpering little wad of darkspawn spunk! If the fucking Breach is still around and I can close it, yes it's _very_ good I'm still alive. Use your fucking head for more than sucking the taint of every superior you have! By the fucking abyss I swear you keep this up and I will tie you to my ship and ram a Quinari Juggernaught just to make a point!" Roared the Pirate, the man went dreadfully pale, it didn't help any that the Prince of the Sea's had grabbed him by the throat and was shaking him like a ragdoll.

Both the women in the room blinked at the switch-flip from calm and amused to bloodthirsty and enraged, "I've had it up to fucking here with you arrogant little fucksticks posturing and demanding respect when you've done _nothing_ to deserve it, so how about you scurry the fuck away while the important people discuss the important things at hand!" Menma dragged the cleric out the door and tossed him onto the floor before slamming it shut with a kick.

With a quick 180 on his mood Menma turned around and gestured for Cassandra to continue, she blinked before shaking her head and slamming a big ol' book on the desk, it was quite pretty looking, very archaic.

"This is writ from the Divine, giving us the authority to act, as of now I declare the Inquisition reborn. We will find those responsible, close the Breach. And set the world straight once more." Said Cassandra, she turned to the Pirate who had a chesire grin on his face, "Many have called you the Herald of Andraste, as when you appeared there was a woman behind you, as though watching over you." She informed, Menma's face fell into a frown.

"You sound like the Elder's of my clan..." He grumbled, getting attention once more, "There are those in my clan who believe we are of Andraste's bloodline, that she is our great Matriarch. It's been a constant pain in the ass, because whilst we have books about this, corroborating evidence... I just don't put much stock into that which I cannot perceive myself." He was a skeptic, disolve a phallus within your stomach acid if that rustled your jimmies.

Both of the women looked at him like he was oozing heresy, "That's what the elders believe. Don't give me that look, you wanna start an Inquisition, who's gonna run it?" Asked the man, getting everything back on track. Though they kept the looks they did gain a slightly thoughtful expression. "You haven't decided on a Head Inquisitor?" Asked Menma with more curiosity than disdain like some would expect.

"I'm sorry but my mind is a little stuck on the particular point of information." Said Leliana, with a shake of the head, "Your family thinks they're descended of Andraste?"

"Mhm, the Elders think that the magic in our blood is because of Andraste, when she was born in Denerim, which was apparently just a fishing village at the time, she and the Patriarch of our Clan, Menma the First, held a night of passion. This was far before she was supposed to have any grand part to play in whatever your Chantry teaches mind you, anyway The First sired a daughter with her, but as she was supposed to be wed to the Chief or whatever of her tribe/clan/family-thing she had to give the daughter to him, when the First left the village he did so with the idea of starting a home for his daughter away from all the strife the mainland would cause for him and her. So he set up on a chain of islands, the location of which I'd kill you before telling you, and slowly but surely created the Uzumaki Clan from the remnants of his already decayed dynasty. Long story short, he founded a clan and all the girls up until me were the magically gifted ones and since I'm the first male-born child of magic within the clan they think I'm supposed to be some sign from the 'Great Matriarch' that she will be returning soon or something like that, returning for her lost children." After that long spiel he took a deep breath and sighed contently, that was quite the mouthful.

"I... you..." Cassandra gave up quite quickly, Menma appreciated this. Whilst he never put much stock into the shit the elders came out with it was with smug pride that he was the only man in the family that could use magic. "But Andraste condemned the tyranny of magic how could your family draw this power from her?!" She finally managed to collect herself apparently.

"Look we can discuss this later, it's really not that important to the moment. For me anyway, so who's going to be the head-honcho, because if you two don't wanna I'll do it." He offered getting raised eyes in response, "I lead a fleet of ships daily, and contrary to popular belief, we don't have any trouble fighting on land. I pull my fleet in, unfortunately damaging my presence on the seas but it'll be fun to reclaim it again, then we have a lot more manpower and thus can do more. Sooo who's gonna be the Inquisitor if not one of us? I have experience, the Mark, and the soldiers. Cassandra did you want to lead?"

"I do not, it is not a role I could fill or would fill. I am... less than comfortable with such a burden of leadership." Admitted Cassandra, both looked to Leliana who gave them a blank look before gesturing to herself.

"Spymaster, right." Said Menma, getting a caw of accent from his little feathered companion.

"Do we have others? That Cullen fellow? Would he be willing?"

"Cullen would portray us as renegade Templars, he could not lead." Informed Cassandra, Menma held his arms out and smiled.

"Wonderful, so how about it, Black Prince Menma, the Inquisitor. I'd need to change my outfit." Menma tapped his chin in thought.

"We will discuss this at a later date, your willingness will be noted." Said Cassandra, "I'll admit I would have thought getting the 'Black Prince of Pirates' to join a religious military group." The smirk on her lips was telling.

"I'm full of hot blood and will always want the seas beneath me, but I'm not stupid, Cassandra. That Breach is a danger, and I'll sort out the problem before me, as opposed to my on wants and needs. Now let's get this show on the road." He said offering his hand, Cassandra shook her head in amusement and took it

 _And so, the Inquisition was founded. Stupid plebs thought I was a bloody 'Herald' of Andraste, it seems I'll never escape that woman for as long as I live._

 _Such is the fate of the Second._

 **End**

 **Hope you liked it.**

 _ **Raxychaz!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_There is one thing I'll never get used to, and that's dealing with the religious types. I just don't get on with them, just because lots of people have the same imaginary friend doesn't make it any less ridiculous. The elders would go on and on about how the Great Matriarch, her hair like fire and her soul filled with the 'Otherrealms' Power, the Fade to the Clan, blah blah blah. Honestly it drove me up the fucking wall, but I suppose my magic and in turn my connection to the Fade was my saving grace, between training, sailing and fishing I learnt a lot from the ancients that inhabited the realm of spirits. From Spirits of Valor I learnt how to conduct myself in a manner befitting one who was of 'High Blood' as they said, Spirits of Wisdom and Knowledge that wished nothing more than to jam as much knowledge into my head as they possibly could, so that I could see the world as they do, even Demons of Desire and Pride came to me, mostly during puberty when my blood was hottest. Ladies of Desire taught me a lot about human sexuality and how easily lust could cloud ones judgment, I spent more than a few days trapped within their grips because of my own lust, not exactly something I regret, I was lucky however they were creatures of desire, but also of Love and Compassion who were more clingy and possessive of me than ready to devour my soul and inhabit my body._

 _Pride's taught me a lot, mostly about hubris and how it could lead to my downfall though I did learn a reason Pride demons are considered the most powerful, on more than one occasion other Spirits had to mend my dazed mind so I could leave the Fade._

 _Though I will always hold one close to my heart, both literally and figuratively, the Lady of the Sea. The blue maiden who was at my side throughout most of my life, watching over me and guiding me into the path I walked to this day, originally a mere Spirit of Joy that met me when I still had my head in the clouds, my will changed her, but fortunately not into some grotesque abomination, instead into a gorgeous nymph of water that bonded to me and urged my enthusiasm for Piracy. Gosh she was just the best._

Menma closed his journal with a snap, sealed it with magic and slipped it into his pack, he missed his darling little crow who currently was off to the fleet, bearing a message of their new directive. He sighed in discontent, he liked Haven as a place, but not what it held. A collection of Zealots, or at least a good chunk of those gathered were. Too many bloody Clerics for his liking. The problem was that _not_ having faith in the Maker seemed to be the strangest fucking thing to these simpletons.

It was a bitter pill he'd always had to swallow, none really shared his logical outlook on the world, seeing is believing unless it doesn't make immediate sense then it was the fucking Maker. Abyss he wanted just wanted to burn those fucking temples down.

A cluster of blue wisps left his form and floated around the room, he smiled at the sensations they gave him, this was the Lady as she appeared in the corporeal plane. There was a knock at his door and he called out for the person to enter, it was Varric the dwarf without a beard smirked as a greeting. The Lady retreated back into Menma's form and quivered at the unexpected visitor.

"What can I do for you Varric?" Asked the Herald with a smile, he was bored senseless whilst Cassandra was getting all the camps and such established, Cullen was directing the troops to their temporary homes, and all that jazz. He wasn't really needed at the moment, so he was just sitting about. Yes he could try and interact with people but cute little Harding was off as a scout at the moment and Solas looked to be concentrating super hard whenever he thought about visiting the fellow, so he didn't want to disturb him.

"I just thought I'd come and get the juicy details on what you've been up to since we last saw each other in Kirkwall, Hawke was a little sore you disappeared so soon." Informed the amused, Varric. Menma mirrored the mans smirk, ah the little Hawke and the adorable way she seemed to be quite smitten with him. He'd stopped in during the Hawke families second year in Kirkwall and had a mild interaction with the rambunctious group but he had to leave due to... well mostly due to how he pissed off the Arishok so much the fucker tried to blow his ships up.

"That's what happens when you steal gunpowder from the Kossith." Their name for it was stupid, so Menam dubbed it gunpowder and stuffed his cannons with the stuff, it was part of the reason he was feared so intently by those who saw the black flag flying high on his darling ship, the _Raven_. He liked birds, what of it?

"How is little Kleo by the way?" Asked the dwarf, ah Kleo. His darling first mate and staunchest of allies, she was another part of the reason the Arishok hated him so much, poor little darling had to put up with a right bastard of a watcher, she was a mage you see, Serabaas to the Qunari and so was chained, masked and all manner of terribly unsavory things. Long story short, he found a broken and battered ashen skinned, horned woman with lips sewn shut. He took her under his wing, let her feel herself out and in turn got possibly the most dedicated lover/soldier he'd ever had the pleasure of having around.

She didn't have a name, so he named her Kleo. It fit, for some reason.

"Little isn't exactly the word I'd use in your position, Varric." Barbed Menma with a grin, getting a snort in return, "She's doing well. Finally making small decisions on her own. Still can never decide what to wear outside the stuff I buy her." He said with a chuckle, "Though I have no doubt the fleet will arrive much quicker due to her insistence. It'll be amusing to see skeleton crews on the largest fleet of mercenaries in the seas." He thought idly.

"Who know's maybe she'll smack you in the face for leaving her alone, you know how she gets." Proposed the dwarf.

"I doubt it, the poor thing is still too worried I'll up and leave her, a little grating I'll say but at least I can take a piss without having to assure her." Grunted the Pirate, sinking into his chair before he ended up sliding out of it, "Come on, let's go get a drink. All this talking is making me thirsty."

"That's the Prince I know."

"I still blame/thank you for starting that nickname."

 **Later**

Menma, Varric and Solas sat in the pub having a drink, it wasn't exactly the largest Inn in the world but it was big enough to serve the trio and whatever soldiers were loitering about at the moment, rush hour would be a bloody nightmare though.

"So Solas, tell me about yourself mate. I've been meaning to ask the enigmatic elven magus about himself." Said Menma, sipping from his tankard with a pointed look. Varric following the movement with gusto.

"What would you like to know?" Solas replied amicably. He was a little hesitant to join in on the merriment with the Pirate Mage but the same sensation the spirits of the Fade gave him, resonated with Menma quite a lot, this mean either he shared his body with a spirit, or was a secret abomination.

There was also the chance he was a spirit who thought it was a human, but that was quite a lot less common.

"Well, when did you notice you had magic. That's always a good one, I nearly drowned a girl who kept kicking sand in my face by having a wave coil around her." Menma informed with a chuckle, oh how he hated that little bitch, even after all these years. She was fine, god no need to get your panties in a twist.

He couldn't punch her the fuck out because the Elders would have flipped their dusty old tits at him for striking a girl but he got out of almost drowning her pretty well.

"That explains so much about you." Said Varric, with a chuckle.

"It wasn't like that, I was frustrated and she just kept pushing me." Dismissed Menma, looking back to Solas, who was thoughtful for a moment.

"I suppose the first impression of my magic was during my first lucid dream, I was young but I was fortunate to run into gentler spirits. I had no preconception of what spirits were so in turn they did not shift into dark atrocities of the mind." Informed the Elf.

"Oh? You're a Dreamer as well? What do you use it for?" Asked Menma, leaning forward with a grin on his lips, this seemed to surprise Solas.

"Ah, you travel the Fade as well then? That is refreshing, many are too tempered with fear to venture into the Fade. I dream in ruins, battlefields, places on history. I watch and listen as the Spirits press into the barriers separating out worlds it is amazing, watching history unfold before me." Solas smiled at this, it seemed he did have more than aloof and slightly amused when it came to expressions.

"That sounds pretty amazing, I'll admit. I usually just spend time speaking with the spirits that drift along the seas, not much history above ship battles out there, though seeing a Leviathan was probably the scariest moments of my life." He shivered at the memory, the bloody thing was enormous.

"Leviathan?" Asked Solas, curiosity peaked.

"Oh yeah, imagine a mix between a whale and a squid, then make it the size of a city. It's docile, harmless as a baby bird, but doesn't make the fact that I've never felt as vulnerable as I did in the moment I stared into it's eye." It didn't help that he'd been thrown overboard. Menma shivered at the memory, rubbing his arms as he thought about it.

"Ugh." Grunted Varric at the thought of it.

"That does sound rather daunting, but somewhat majestic." Solas admitted, a thoughtful look on his face.

"I'm sure it would be to someone else."

 **Another Short While Later**

Menma had been called up to the chapel, and was formally greeted by the heads of the Inquisition. Cullen, of course was there as the leader of the military force. Leliana as the Spymaster, Cassandra as... Cassandra. And finally the lady who would be kissing noble ass for them, Josephine. She was nice enough, if you liked Antivan women.

That and he just didn't like putting up with noble's shit, he fucking _despised_ Orlais because of this. They were a melting pot of pathetic mice pretending to be better than they were.

That was just going to make him mad thinking about it, so he didn't.

"So what's the plan stan?" Asked the Pirate with a risen brow.

"We need more power to put into your Mark, with it we should be able to close the Breach. We must go to the Rebel Mages for help." Menma hummed at Cassandra's words, tapping his chin in thought.

"What we need are Templars, they can suppress the Breach. Weaken it enough to seal it for good." Rebuked Cullen with a firm tone.

"Pure speculation." Leliana cut off with a shake of the head.

"And unleashing a bunch of Mages to charge up something we have no idea how to control is a better option?" Shot back Cullen with a frown.

"Better than allowing zealots to nullify the magic within the Mark." Interjected Menma, getting looks. "We do not have Templars on the islands, but we do have warriors like them. Able to suppress and nullify magic, whatever sits within the mark has been bound to me, like my own veins. Any interruption to magic in the area would only serve to cause more trouble."

"The mages it is then." Said Cassandra with a nod.

"Not just them either, I'm not saying we don't collect the Templars, they'll be useful frontline soldiers. But what I am saying is they are not the answer to the Breach." Said Menma, nodding to himself.

"No matter what path you choose, we do not have nearly enough influence to approach either side for help. With the Chantry condemning us and the sheer lack of resources, we simply cannot do it." Interjected Josephine. Menma hummed for a moment.

"Resources won't be an issue, with my fleet's backing this fledgling organization will be a full force to be reckoned with." Assured the Prince of the Black Fleet.

"That would certainly solve one issue but would cause many more to pop up in it's place." Said Josephine, getting a risen brow in response, "We are already branded as heretics, and renegades. Adding a fleet of pirate mercenaries would show us to be nothing more than brigands."

"So?" Asked Menma in response, "Who gives a flying fuck what people think of us, if we can amass the gold, the resources and the people. Why do the opinions of those outside matter?"

"It's that kind of thinking that allowed the Mage rebellion to start." Warned Cullen. Menma frowned, but before a discussion on that could start, Leliana steered the discussion back onto point.

"There is something you can do, a Chantry Cleric, by the name of Mother Giselle has asked to see you nearby, she is more informed on those who could aid us within the clergy, than I." Menma frowned but nodded.

"While you're there try to garner more favour, earn us more supporters and the like." Said Cullen, once more gaining the dark haired man's ascent.

Menma looked over the maps laid on the table before him and resolved himself.

"Right then, we need a leader." said Menma, suddenly. Whilst Cassandra and Leliana expected something along these lines, the other two hadn't. It was like the idea hadn't even really crossed their minds. "As I said to Cassy and Leliana, an organization of this caliber needs a leader or we'll end up fighting and squabbling like bloody nobles." Cullen saw Menma's reasoning, Josephine looked a little affronted by the analogy but couldn't exactly argue with his point.

"And who would you suggest, Menma." Asked Cullen, a smirk on his lips.

"Myself, I've lead the Black Fleet for years now, we don't loose. We've fought in wars, skirmishes and done everything from smuggling to protection. And if he want to be pedantic about it, I've got the marking that can seal the rifts that will be popping up and if you want to be even more bloody delicate about it, if people think the leader of the Inquisition was chosen by the fucking Maker and his wifey, it'll appeal to the masses." He said, it make perfectly reasonable sense to him.

"And placing you at the forefront would advertise we aim to be seen as renegades... more so than we already are." Interjected Josephine.

"Ok then how about this, someone has to do it and none of you fuckers are willing." Snapped the man with a scowl, they jumped at the quick switch, it wasn't out of the realms of understanding that this was beginning to grate on him.

"That doesn't make you the best to lead." Was Cullen's diplomatic response, Menma almost tore his hair out and let out a frustrated growl.

"Everything else I've said does though!" He bellowed, "For fucks sake you people are driving me insane!" Throwing up his arms, "I'm not trying to have you prostrate yourselves before me, I'm just the more reasonable person to take the job."

"What Cullen is trying to say is that to lead the faithful you have to be one of them." Input Leliana. "And you are not."

"It's called lying." Shot back Menma with a frown.

"You would lead all these people, give them hope, and adhere to their beliefs, on a lie?" Asked Josephine, a little surprised. Not by the fact that one would lie, the fact he'd be willing to go that far.

"If it were up to me, I'd tell them all outright that I was ripped here by the Fade, that the woman behind me was more than likely a Spirit, and that what we do, what we must do, needn't be directed by something as trivial as _faith_. But yes, I'd be willing to lie to them all to get it done." He spat the word faith like venom.

"Why _do_ you despise it so?" Asked Cassandra, with a curious/narrow stare.

"Because it's pointless to ponder what _could_ be when what _is,_ carries so much more significance, you people think your Maker left you, but you still pine for his attention. That's pathetic, it's like an abusive relationship with an absent father figure. The fact that someone decided to tear open the Veil and begin bleeding the Fade into the world takes precedent to something that may or may not be." He shook his head. "We're getting off topic, theological debates can wait for another time, when we don't have potentially hordes of demons to deal with. So I'll just end on this note, let me lead and we'll get this done quickly, and efficiently. Or bicker and argue amongst yourselves, and get every one of the people who came here killed." With his piece said Menma turned to leave.

"We'll be going to the Hinterlands soon... make sure you've got everything you'll need." Said Cassandra, he nodded but remained silent as he closed the door behind him.

"I don't think I've ever met someone with such a negative disposition to the Chantry." Admitted Cullen, thinking back.

"I suppose living life on the seas, or on a chain of secluded islands... I do not know. But at the moment it doesn't matter. We have bigger problems." Muttered Cassandra.

 **A Couple Days Later, Inquisition Camp: Hinterlands.**

Menma had received word from the fleet, and in turn collected his communication crystal from his quarters, slipping it on he opened the locked and touched the crystal. " _Finally!_ " Said a familiar voice, a strong but feminine voice.

"Yes Kleo, hello to you too. Has the Fleet made headway?" Asked the Captain of the largest mercenary company on the seas.

" _The scouts with your trident have made it to Redcliffe and are awaiting your arrival, Sir. The majority of the fleet will at Haven within a few days._ " Informed his second, Menma smiled and sighed in relief.

"Thank you, Kleo. How are you? I hope I didn't cause you any grief."

" _Of course you did, I thought you'd left us all behind... but when Karasu came back to us with your note, the crew celebrated your not-death for hours._ " Kleo informed, Menma chuckled and shook his head. " _I will speak with you again, soon. The fleet needs someone to direct them._ " Menma bid her a good day and closed the locket, Karasu sitting happily on his shoulder.

He turned to Cassandra, Solas and Varric. "To Redcliffe we go, my friends." He grinned, the dwarf and the elf were more than happy to go along with whatever, if it ended up helping their goals, Cassandra rose a brow as they left the camp, Scout Harding waving them off. Menma had to remind himself to stop back in and have a chat with the little lady at some point.

"Should we not be heading to the Crossroads, to meet with Mother Giselle?" Asked Cassandra.

"We'll drop in on the way, it's a crossroads after all. We would have to go through it anyway." Was the curt response.

"You two have an argument or something, this tension isn't exactly great for your complexion, Prince." Varric asked.

"There needs to be a leader for the Inquisition, I've put my name forward, no one else has. Without a leader, a spearhead, we're a blunt stick. We need someone to keep us on task and in the right direction." Informed Menma as they began walking through the lush green lands of the Hinterlands, through a rocky, natural path towards the Crossroads, thankfully it wasn't exactly far, the scouts picked a good spot with able vision and access to the most useful part of the Hinterlands.

"I think that's a splendid idea." Said Solas with a nod.

"At least someone see's reason." Said the mage with a yawn.

"We are not having this conversation _again_." Groaned Cassandra.

"I don't have to, the more responsibility you all inevitably put on me will end up with you all oh so graciously naming me the Inquisitor. It's not hard to predict." Said Menma, the sounds of battle reaching his ears. "C'mon, gotta save the plebs."

Such was the heroic words he led them into battle with.

Templars and Apostates lashed out at one another, Inquisition soldiers and villagers caught in the crossfire, Menma's desire to get shit done fueled his movements as he dashed forward into the fray, with a slide to a halt Menma pulled the Lady to the surface of his skin, she glittered with joy at his 'touch' and fueled his magical abilities.

Rain began to pour down on the small area the Templars and the Mages inhabited, a few drew their eyes skyward at the conjured storm, with a flick of his wrist the Pirate sent a barrage of lightning towards the line of Templars, blood sprayed from the gaps in their armour as their bodies were reduced to mush, water rose up under the Mages and strangled them, orbs of carnivorous waters chewing their heads to bloody stumps.

The battle was over in seconds, the rain abated and the corpses of the warring factions reduced to soggy piles of meat. The Pirate was pleased, the element of surprise had never failed him. The Lady retreated back into was 'warmest' part of his form, resting comfortably in his heart as she cuddled against him from within his body and soul.

It was an interesting flip compared to when he was younger and sought after her touch, and comfort.

"Impressive." Said Solas, though his gaze lingered on the dead mages for a moment he turned to Menma with a nod of respect, if nothing else than for the talent and skill of what he just did. "Would your Lady have anything to do with the storm?" He asked, the pair had exchanged a brief moment over their interactions within the Fade. And their time with Spirits.

"Indeed, the Lady is my better half, she works with the... brighter side of my mind to create simple things with magic, like rains and such, I on the other hand use the conductive powers of electricity and the manipulation of water to murder more efficently. She doesn't seem to mind as much as I had originally thought she would." Menma admitted, the waters, without blood in them, rising from the ground and spreading themselves over a dry crop of wheat that lay before him.

"She is a kind Spirit indeed. I would not think joining to a human host would leave her with this characteristic. You have shown me much, Menma." Solas was a nice guy, Menma decided. A little serious but nice. A good drinking buddy to be sure.

"You can meet her, if you so desire."

"I would like that very much."

 **Redcliffe Gate**

Menma met with the Mother, fed her lines and lies that he had to as 'the Herald'. And told the troops to spread out around town, collect food for the hungry people by killing the mountain goats within the area. One man needed someone to fetch a potion from his son, who joined up with a cult in the higher hills. Menma asked the Lady to just heal the woman, in doing so gained a very happy couple of informants for the Inquisition. No one ever expected the gentle old couple.

Menma directed the soldiers stationed outside the Crossroads to come within it, to set up their camps within the towns borders and act as a bulwark until the Hinterlands could be purged of dangers and idiocy.

For now though it turned the gentle and abused people of the Crossroads into the first foothold of Inquisition presence within the Hinterlands... Menma idly thought if conquering the free cities would ease his path, but then countered that thought with who he was working with, he would have no great conquest no. Instead he would be working with soft-handed flower children, with no mind for cutthroat results.

It mattered little, what did matter was the strange magic exhibited by the Rifts around Redcliffe, whilst Cassandra was in his ear about going to Orlais to try and convince some of the faithful, Menma had a much more objective mind, he needed mages, so he was going to get mages. No need to kneel to a bunch of clothies.

Menma stood before a contingent of men and women, elves, humans and a few sparse kossith stood within their ranks, all bearing a similar style to himself, donned in black coats with a black raven emblazoned upon their shoulders.

One of them stepped forward, a length of cloth holding what some may assume to be a staff, Solas, Varric and Cassandra looked on with a mixture of intrigue and wariness. Menma unwrapped the cloth revealing a trident, Neptune was it's name. And aptly so was it named after the ancient god of the sea, the weapon was a fine piece of craftsmanship, the trio of barbs looked more akin to horns framing a spearhead but nevertheless it was a mighty beast of a thing. In the centre of the metal head was a dark blue teardrop shaped stone, a magical catalyst.

This weapon was both his staff, and his spear.

Menma thumped the pommel on the ground and pounded his chest, the scouts of the Black Fleet doing the same, "Your orders, Sir!" They all snapped into a straight backed stance as the Lt. amongst them asked this question.

"For the moment you will go to the Crossroads, there you will find a dwarf woman named Lace Harding, she is a scout for the Inquisition, you will bolster her forces until we leave for Haven in a day or so." Ordered the Black Prince with an until now unforeseen, by those he now traveled with, serious expression.

"Sir!" They all snapped another salute and left for the crossroads.

"You have Quinari in your employ?" Was the first question, this came from Solas.

"No, I have Kossith. The species isn't the faith." Menma said, fondly looking to the trident loosely held in his hands. "You have nothing to fear from them, Solas. Most of the Kossith in the fleet were Tal Vashoth who craved order once more, but could not return to their people. They accept me as their leader and in turn I accept them as my brothers and sisters on the seas. They will not attempt to cage you." Menma assured.

"I gotta say, Prince. You sure can pick 'em." Said Varric with a chuckle, Menma shrugged and fixed his weapon onto his back, the familiar weight making him sigh with content.

"Come on, there's a large concentration of Magic in the pub, we can get smashed and get info."

 **An Hour Later**

Menma sat next to an elven woman, Fiona. The Grand Enchanter, or ex-Grand Enchanter, depending on who you asked. She was a strong woman, if nothing else. She led the mages, she and Menma were currently in talks.

"So, here's what I offer you, Miss Fiona." Started Menma, adjusting himself and looking her in the eye, she appreciated the way he spoke to her, like an equal. It was so rare to find nowadays. "Safety from the rogue Templars that want your collective heads, and amnesty from the Chantry. All I ask is that you help me seal the Breach and stick by the Inquisition until we get all this mess sorted out." Said Menma, he smiled when she breathed a sigh of relief, "Expecting something worse?" He asked in humour.

"I will be blunt, Herald. We are a desperate people, it humbles me that you chose not to exploit this." Menma chuckled and placed a hand on her shoulder, his other hand flickering with wisps of mana, "Oh, you are a Mage yourself?" She asked with surprise.

"I am, and if nothing else I like to look out for my own." He pat her shoulder once or twice before retracting his hand, "Now I should tell you though, Miss Fiona I do intend to bring the Templar order into the fold to act as vanguards for our front lines, but I swear to you, on the blood of my Clan, that they will not regain dominion over you, I cannot stress this enough." Menma said, Fiona smiled and nodded.

"You are a good man, Herald. I can see that in you, the Inquisition has a noble goal and a noble leader. the Mages would happily pledge ourselves to you, shall we work out a contract?" She offered, Menma nodded.

"Aye, best to get it in writing, eh? Cassandra." Menma called the black haired woman over, "Would it be terrible of me to ask you to find a paper and something to write with, Solas might have something he's always got that bag of his." Cassandra smirked and nodded, idly tapping his shoulder with her knuckles.

"I'll admit, you've surprised me, Menma." The Prince mirrored her expression and returned his gaze to the mage before him.

"May I ask how you have surprised her?" Asked the woman, curious about her new leader.

"I've been grilling the others that we need an Inquisitor, but since the organization is still quite new they haven't felt the need to announce a single leader. At the moment it's myself, Cassandra and a few others who are doing most of the leading. Don't worry though, they'll come 'round." He said with an easy smile, Fiona, unbidden, relaxed. This young man had charisma to be sure, and had that aura on sincerity that she'd grown unaccustomed to.

"Here you are, Herald." Said Solas, coming up beside them and producing a roll of parchment an inkwell and a quill. "A pleasure to meet you, Grand Enchanter." Greeted Solas, whilst they had exchanged pleasantries before he felt the need to greet her once more, now as a member of the Inquisition.

"And you, Solas."

"Cheers mate." Thanked the Pirate with a grin as he pat Solas on the back, pulling the parchment to himself he began writing it up. "Alright let's get this bad boy outta the way, and get back to Haven to get you guys settled, eh?" Asked Menma with another grin, an expression Fiona felt herself gaining easily.

 **End of chapter.**

 **A little display of the potential arguments that could have occurred if one were able to have a greater influence over the conversation at the war table. And the inevitable frustrations that it could cause any sane person.**

 _ **Raxychaz!**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Just to point it out so no-ones confused, I feel like constant, small timeskips are the only way to really do a story for something like Dragon Age considering just how big it is. I'm not trying to make an epic, just have a bit of fun.**

 **Was probably my biggest mistake with my Warcraft stories.**

 **Aside from trying a Warcraft story.**

 **Because that shit is like a chunk of your life on its own.**

 **Anyway, enjoy.**

 **Start.**

 _The mages, for as many as there were, were a group in desperate need of direction. And I was more than happy to provide. Though by the time we actually returned to Haven my fleet had too arrived, it was not the most interesting event to take place. Meeting Dorian Pavus, was however. A man, a bit older than myself, with a smirk on his lips and cunning in his eyes all wrapped up in a fabulously presented package, Dorian Pavus was, and is, a very interesting man. He worried over the fact that his mentor, Gereon Alexius was dabbling with powers outside his control. I agreed to meet with the man at a later date, whilst Dorian came with us at the present. Things to be done and all that._

 _The Lady stirred with discontent when I spoke with Alexius to arrange the meeting. But I managed to calm her down, I can only hope she forgives me for exposing her to him later._

 _Either than that I've grown a little fond of the people around me, looking past the zealotry reveals good people beneath. I suppose that I'll always have differences with the people around me, I'm just unused to being the only one with a certain view on the world._

Menma closed his journal and shook his head, before grabbing a piece of paper and began writing once more, "Knock, Knock, marvelous mage calling!" Chimed a cheerful voice, Menma felt a smile grow on his face unbidden.

"Come on in, Dorian." He said with a shake of his head, Karasu cawed softly as the Tevinter Enchanter entered the room, he was a handsome man to be sure, any woman would be the envy of all with him on her arm. Pity for women he was gay though, Dorian was a man Menma could see himself becoming fast friends with. Both had a similar outlook with a few key differences and both loved a good bit of cheeky banter.

With short dark hair that was well looked after Dorian managed to be the centre of attention in most rooms, he had tanned skin and dark brown eyes. A well loved mustache that looked better suited on a typical villain than a friendly magus of the Imperium.

"What can I do for you Dorian, I'm just sending a letter home." Said Menma giving the man a nod before resuming his writings.

"Oh not much, just figured I'd pop in have a chat with the man labeled Andraste's Herald." He was amused, if the little smirk on his face was any kind of tell, Menma sighed into his letter and shook his head, this time his smile melted away leaving what many would call, his 'Resting Bitch Face'.

"Not a title I bear with any modicum of pride." Was the grunt that could be mistaken for the common tongue.

"Ah but look at all those people out there, they love you! Tell me you don't like that attention." Challenged the magus.

"In truth, I hate _that_ kind of attention. Zealots are good for one thing, dying in the name of stupidity. Why do you think I was so happy to have rebel mages with us? They at least thought 'This is a bit fucking sus' and decided to get the hell out of those shitful circles. That in itself implies thoughts that run counter to the fucking mess that is the chantry... I feel like you didn't come here to hear me rant about my views..." Said Menma, he sighed heavily, he felt like this was just going to be one of those days.

"I don't mind, I can understand the need to loose ones maddened thoughts." Said Dorian with a nod, pulling up the seat beside the pirate, "So tell me about this little fellow." He said pointing to Karasu who hopped over Menma's wrist and towards Dorian's outstretched finger.

"That's Karasu, it means Crow on the islands. Original I know. She's been with me for... oh I'd say five years at this point." Informed the Pirate, getting a surprised look, "I know she's little at the moment, but lemme tell you something Dorian, juice this little chick-a-dee up with magic and she could easily blot out the sun."

"You can augment her to what... ride?" Asked the man with shock, not exactly unheard of but a very hard thing to do.

"Oh yeah, I've been infusing her with my magic since the day I found her egg. I'll admit it was on a whim at best, but fuck if it doesn't scare the hell out of people." He said, gently stroking the bird with his gloved finger.

"Interesting... how old were you when you began this process?" Dorian asked with curiosity.

"Well I'm 22, started 5 years ago at 17 with Karasu, but I've been juicing up things with magic since I was... I wanna say 13." Menma tapped his chin in thought, a look of concentration crossed his face.

"You look so serious when you're thinking." Came the amused observation of Dorian.

"At least I still look gorgeous when I do it, that's a conciliation... I think the first thing I began to alter with my magic was my muscles."

"Oh? Curious choice for a mage of all things." Admitted the Pavus.

"Indeed, but I needed to compensate for the lack of time I could put into my physical training like the other boys. The girls had the magic, the boys became the warriors. Call it wounded pride but after I got my ass kicked the first time I was quite resolute in it not happening again." Admitted the Pirate.

"Herald, there's someone here to see you." Stated a muffled voice, a Templar no doubt, his head peaked in and Menma was proved right. Next to the man was a... androgynous person, sporting standard issue heavy merc armour from Kirkwall, with tanned skin, short cut brown hair with the sides shaved and dusky grey eyes.

"Apologies for the interruption, milord but he was rather insistent on giving someone up top a message." Said the Templar.

"It's no problem, Dorian and I were just having a chat about birds. Come in, what can I do for you...?" He asked, waving the Templar off with a smile, the man saluted and left, the not-man-not-woman stepped in saluting with a chest pound.

"Cremisius Aclassi, my company commander The Iron Bull wanted to send a message regarding some Tevinter mercenaries on the Storm Coast."

"Harding and her crew were dispatched to the Storm Coast... why did you come all the way here to tell me that though?" Asked the Herald with a curious, risen brow.

"The Bulls Chargers, to put it bluntly, wanna pick a side. Bull wants in on the party, we're moving to head off these merc's and wanted to send this message ahead, so you can see what we're made of." Informed Cremisius.

Menma made an 'Ah' noise and smiled, "We'll certainly look into it, but come, you must be tired how about a round, Dorian?" Offered the Pirate.

"Well... I suppose the swill around here will have to suffice." Krem rolled his eyes at the flowery mage, Menma grinned widely.

"We'll rally the boys, c'mon gents."

 **Haven's Tavern**

Varric, Solas, Krem, Dorian, Menma and Cullen were all seated around a table, the pirate and his crow perched at the top with the dwarf and the elf at his flanks, the two tevinter men at opposite sides of one another, and finally Cullen at the end of the table.

"I'm uncertain as to why you asked me here, Herald." Said Cullen, a little awkwardly.

"Ah, come on Curly, if you keep drilling all day you'll lose that charming voice of yours we can't have that. Think of it as interpersonal relations training." Assured Varric, getting a chuckle the Prince.

"Be that as it may-"

"Oh come one Cullen, worst thing that happens is the soldiers get a moment to have a chat while they have a break. They're too scared of Cassandra to leave the area anyway." Brushed off Menma, why wasn't he marching off to the next objective? Because they _just_ got back to Haven and he really just wanted to have a chat with a few mates.

Cullen actually had a small laugh at that, "That certainly is true. Very well then, cheers." The man rose his cup and the whole table joined in, merriment and camaraderie were had on that day indeed.

"So Cremisius, what can I expect from the Bulls Chargers? Any field you specialize in?" Asked the Herald after a few minutes of banter.

"You can call me Krem, sir. And no, not really. We take any job if the pays good and there's no objections, guarding and hunting are the usuals but we've have a few not so traditional ones, like joining an Orlesian Duke's party, not even to guard just to stand around and look intimidating." Menma shook his head in amusement at that, typical Orlesians. "This is the first time the Boss has chosen a side though, then again that big gap in the sky does warrant concern." He said with a smirk on his lips.

"An astute observation." Said Solas, smartass.

"Other than that there's not really much to tell, we get the work done, we're loyal to the contract." Rattled off Krem, this sounded a bit more rehearsed, perhaps Bull put the young man in charge of selling them more often than not.

"Well it'll certainly be interesting, first we got the mages, the fleet should be arriving within the hour, and now a mercenary company. I'd say this is coming together quite nicely, eh Cullen?" Asked the Pirate, getting a nod in response.

"All you need now is some uniforms, possibly something with red, and clerics everywhere. Then the Chantry could get off your back."

"We were supposed to go to Val Royeux first but I figured we were already near Redcliffe, I'm surprised how salty Alexius looked."

"Well you did shit in his breakfast, Prince." Supplied Varric.

"Eloquent as always, Varric." Solas sniped with another smartass smirk on his lips, he'd fallen into the group dynamic quite well.

"I'm curious as to how he made the Arl leave the castle to him... fucking Time Magic." Grumbled the Pirate with a shake of his head.

"Well it may have been only a few hours to us but who knows how long in the castle." Dorian reminded, Menma grunted an affirmative.

"I've _got_ to see the notes you have on that, it's just too useful not to be used... and if we end up making more rifts we can seal them with the Mark." Said Menma, his mood brightening as he wielded a grin, Dorian smirked, but the ex-Templar shot the Herald a condemning look.

"It's bad enough we have one mage dabbling in forces he cannot control, we don't need another." Cullen chastised, Menma tsked and rolled his eyes but kept his good humor.

"So this is where you ran off to, Commander." Said the voice of Cassandra, standing behind Menma as though she were a specter who'd just appeared, Cullen choked on his drink, Menma laughed only to feel Cassandra's arms grip his shoulders, her thumbs digging into his shoulder blades painfully, he grimaced.

"You've got a killer grip, Cassy." He commented.

"I'll take that as a compliment, now come. You're not going to spend your off-time lazily." She ordered, Menma sighed, Cullen was already out the door, Varric was laughing at his plight whilst the others held smirks.

"Ugh, fine... I finished my drink anyway. Have a good one gents."

 **Outside**

"So what... you wanna figure out how to combat a spear?" Menma asked with a curious gaze. "Is it really so rare to see someone with one?" Cassandra was fully kitted out, her armour looked a little different, perhaps Harritt had added some extra's to it.

"None who have any real experience. Militia mostly. And if we should ever come into contact with one, I need to be able to defeat them." It made sense enough, didn't make leaving the pub for a sparring match any less dull.

Cassandra lunged, Menma trapped her blade 'tween his trident's prongs and twisted sharply, with enough force to disarm her sending the blade careening off and sliding across the snow, she was about to say something only for the spearhead to touch her gullet, "First tip, don't lead with your sword." He said smugly, getting an annoyed grunt in response.

This time she led with her shield, Menma feinted a stab but pulled back when she braced and leant to the side, striking her in the back of her knee forcing her to kneel, "Don't think I won't play dirty." Menma advised further, tapping her on the back with his pommel to get up.

Cassandra grunted but rolled her shoulders and as she moved in for the strike this time she struck him with... something, that made him seize up, she then bashed him with her shield and then drove the butt of her sword into his gut.

Landing ass first on the snow the pirate shot her an approving grin, "That's more like it! I'm curious though, what was that?" He asked with a tilt of the head, picking himself off and brushing off the snow on his uniform.

"That was a... talent I gained when becoming a Seeker." Said the woman offering a hand that was readily accepted.

"Well it was awesome, I'd ask how it works but I assume it's all very hush-hush." At her nod he smiled but went to pick up his weapon, "Well I gotta say it's useful, might I suggest we practice with it some more? I wanna see if there's a way to resist it. And if all else fails you can get a more concentrated go at it." Offered the Herald.

Cassandra considered this for a moment before shaking her head, "No, it was reckless of me to use that against you, it's only to be used against those I intend to kill."

"Was it the poking? Ah, my bad. Didn't think it'd piss you off like that." The mage frowned slightly and shook his head, "I'm used to people I dislike being the other end, when I fight. Don't take it to heart."

"I didn't you are... frustrating, I will not lie. But you say what you think and it saves time, better than tip-toeing around every issue like some." Cassandra replied.

"Appreciate it." Menma nodded and rested the trident against his shoulder, he looked off to the side, over the mountains to the north, a low thunderous noise began to echo throughout the valley, a black shadow sitting just in the mist began to slowly clear.

"Oh, so they did finish it. Good to know." The Pirate said with a smile on his face. From the mist that settled over the mountain appeared a giant figure, but it was no mere beast of the skies, it was a ship, a long sleek ship with a horned raven's head mounted at the front, carved with tender care. the beak was open for reason to be explained later. Two leather bound balloons kept it aloft, tied to the sides of the ship with thick chords, metal tubes rising from the rear of the ship and into the balloons, the mist cleared rapidly around it, heat emanating from the ships 'tail feathers'.

"What is _that!?_ " Demanded Cassandra, a reflexive step back.

"That my dear, is my warship. The Raven. Kitted out with the ability to fly," Menma stared proudly into the skies whilst many stopped what they were doing to gawk at the big flying ship, it cast a shadow over all of Haven, ropes fell down from the ship and on them were anchors, smashing into the ground with a thump, Menma watched as hordes of soldiers repelled down people, from dwarves to Kossith began to populate the ground, all of them bearing various signature Raven's of the Black Fleet marked upon their person, some even having one on their cheeks.

Menma strode forward, leaving in his wake many with loose jaws and slack shoulders, Neptune was spun between well trained fingers and slammed into the ground, blades first, the soldiers that dropped down, numbering in the three-four hundreds, all saluted with a chest pound and a chorus of, " _Admiral!_ " To some he was Captain, but the fleet at large addressed him as Admiral.

Menma placed his hat on Neptune's pommel and strode forward, arms crossed behind his back, "Soldiers. Friends. Comrades. In the sky is our new foe, the Breach. With the support of the Mages we will seal it, but we will not be stopping their. Until further notice the Black Fleet joins the Inquisition. We will integrate into their forces, but _I_ am still the one in charge. Is that understood!" He shouted.

" _Yes Admiral!_ " The chorused once more, driving a smirk to his lips.

"Good." He nodded to himself but kept that quiet, "We fight against the unknown, once more we plunge into conflict, but that's what we live for is it not? To throw ourselves into the abyss and fly with the winds of change 'neath out wings. What are we!?" He roared, stepping forward in the sky sat the _Raven_ whilst Karasu fluttered down and sat on his hat, that sat on his trident.

"THE BLACK FLEET!"

"What do we do!?"

"FIGHT UNTIL THE LAST MAN!"

"What do we say to our foes!"

"RUNNING MEANS YOU DIE TIRED!"

Throwing his arms up it was met with cheers, the Black Prince laughed heartily as he was suddenly onset by a Kossith woman, hair white as fresh snow and bright purple eyes. She bore the usual ash grey skin that most Qunari seemed to have, horns that swept back over her head were the colour of obsidian. This was Kleo, and like a Saarebaas would, she had the scars of her time under the Qun. Marks on her lips frown when they were sewn shut, scarring around her eye sockets from the mask she was forced to wear. Not able to been seen presently but still there, were the marks around her wrists, and throat from her bindings.

The glomp was real.

The Legion of black clad sailors broke into a mass of joyous shouts, calls for battle, and relief. The Black Prince had touched each of them in his own way, the Master of the Fleet had started it from humble beginnings as a simple Caravelle captain, to now having the first warship in the skies. The captains stepped forward and looked upon their Admiral and his first mate with warmth.

Cassandra, Cullen, Leliana and Josephine came to the forefront behind Menma, the large Qunari woman, from their perspective, overpowering him and peppering his face with kisses and cheek rubs.

"That was... quite the display, _Admiral_." Said Cullen, smirking. Kleo looked over the head of her beloved, his face in her bosom as she stared down those behind him, "Shall we make introductions?"

"That'd be a good idea." Said Menma from his fleshy cage, he pat Kleo's hip gently and she released him, standing beside him with a straight back, Menma placed Karasu on his shoulder and popped his hat on. "Ladies and gentlemen of the Inquisition, the Black Fleet-" He'd of continued but they got excited.

"HAIL!" They greeted, Menma shook his head in amusement at his soldiers but didn't say anything.

"My Fleet-Captains, Karin." He gestured to a redhead, one side of her hair was smooth and straight, the other mad, wild and spiked. She sported a pair of eye-glasses as well as a suspicious pouch on her belt, her skin was fair, much like the Admiral's own, though had ruby red eyes instead of the molten gold Menma flaunted.

"A pleasure." The same accent too, it would appear another islander was within their midst.

"Nagato." Yet another redhead, a man with amethyst coloured eyes, his hair was short and only reaching his neck, though was more like a mop than hair. He was a slight lankier than the Prince, the man sported a pair of daggers on his hip, another suspect looking pouch on his hip. He sported a small smile and bowed his head with his greeting.

"Very nice to meet you all."

"And last but not least, This is Wisp." He introduced an elven woman, contrary to her name she was anything but wispy, she was a full bodied woman with dusky mocha coloured skin and river-blue eyes. Her skin was patterned with black tatoo's not unlike Dalish markings but much thicker and going _all_ over her body.

If you catch ma drift.

She was sporting a more provocative version of the uniform, her stomach exposed along with her toned thighs, her coat though, was as usual. She had a staff that was more akin to a halberd held gently in her gloved fingers, the shaft was made of obsidian with a solid orb of lyrium encased in a focus, the plating around which was made of lazurite. 'Blue is my favourite colour' was her reason.

"Lovely to see you, even more so with you here, Admiral." She tossed him a wink, he responded in kind while wielding a smile that sparked a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"And my Chief Engineer, Adaar." A large Kossith man sporting a pair of goggles around his neck in addition to his uniform his horns were cut, or capped, to a short stump of their possible size, going onto just over his hairline, he had storm grey eyes and dark ash coloured skin. Adaar merely nodded in their direction.

"Quite the group..." Observed the Spymaster.

"I'm still stuck on the giant ship in the sky." Was all that Varric could muster.

"Trade secret." Supplied Adaar with a rumble. Getting a chuckle from the Admiral.

"Any problems with it so far?" Asked Menma, turning to th larger man.

"Not so far, Sir. There was a little more heat than initially thought, but we sorted the issue quickly." Menma nodded and turned back to the Inquisition's heads.

"As I said, I would back this little operation with my fleet. And so they have arrived, albeit with a bit more flash than I anticipated, nevertheless there is much to be done. Shall we?" He said, gesturing to the Chantry.

"Set up light camp for now, soldiers. On the ledge over there!" He ordered over his shoulder, pointing to his right, the Breach lay over those hills, it was a not-so-subtle way to put those he trusted as the bulwark.

"Sir!" The black fanned out as a few that remained atop the _Raven_ tossed down packs with parachutes attached to set up camp. Always come prepared, or don't come at all.

 **Chantry**

Menma, the Head's of the Inquisition, along with his Fleet-Captains entered the War-Room, the reason for the extra's was because the Herald had jobs for them to do and it was best to get the go ahead from the others instead of going behind their backs.

"Before we begin, you said the Inquisition was a blunt spear, what did you mean by this?" Asked Cassandra, her lips set into a small frown.

"I meant no ill will with it but it is fact, without a Head-Inquisitor there's none to sharpen the 'weapon' to it's proper point. The metaphor is a bit much but you get my idea. You can still kill someone with a blunt weapon, it's just less efficient." He said with a shrug before looking over the war table.

"I know that look..." Started Nagato, a small smile on his face. "You've got the same look in your eye from all that time ago, when we started the Fleet."

"Andraste no, not again." Groaned Karin.

"Calm your tits, Karin." Shot out Menma with a sigh, "I'm just thinking about what I can get you all to do while we traipse into Val Royeux and dick around with the Chantry."

"Actually, I have gotten word the Templars have secluded themselves into Therinfall Rebout, our best chance to approach them will be with noble backing, then again the 'Black Prince' and his flying ship may be enough to open the gates if we wish to approach with bravado." She said with amusement.

"No, that would cause too much open hostility. Besides I don't need more people gawking at my baby." Karasu cawed indignantly at that. "Oh come one you're my fat-baby, Karasu. You know daddy will always have a place for you. It's just that the _Raven_ can carry hundreds of troops and rain hellfire on anyone I point the cannons at." Karasu cawed once more and left his shoulder, in favor of sucking up to Wisp. "Fickle bird." He shook his head as the woman caressed the small animal lovingly.

"The faithful have massed towards us, in that lot are many nobles who would happily make an alliance with the Inquisition more appealing, to the Templars." Suggested Josephine, Menma hummed as Cullen responded.

"That could work, but the Templars are bound to the chantry, would material gains that nobility have really intice them so?" It was rhetorical, but was answered anyway.

"From what my spies have seen in Val Royeux, the Templars have left the Chantry."

"Well... shit." Muttered Karin.

"Indeed." Accented Cassandra.

Menma shook his head, "We'll deal with it. Nagato, I need you to take your warband into the Fallow Mire and track down the Avaar holding our men, your main concern is getting them back. If you find anything of use there, bring it back." Began the Prince with a nod to his cousin.

"So a standard retrieval/scavenge mission? I can get that done." Affirmed Nagato with a firm nod.

"Karin, you'll go to the Storm Coast and check out the Bulls Chargers, while you're at it do a sweep of the area, I from what Harding has managed to send back so far, there's a band of warriors called the 'Blades of Hessarian'. Do what you do best." Karin grinned smugly and puffed out her chest, nodding as she did so.

"No probs Bob."

"Wisp you'll be coming with us to Therinfall, it'll pay to have another mage on my side, that and it is always funny to watch the chaste chafe when you're around them." Wisp let out chimes of laughter and shook her head, a fond smile on her lips.

"At least you're honest." She said, all three of them did the usual chest pound before leaving, Wisp taking a mewling Karasu with her.

When the door shut he was set upon by the heads, "Explain." Ordered Cassandra.

"What part, what did I say about specifics?" He said with a few clicks of his tongue.

"Who were they to you, outside of their affiliation." Suggest Leliana.

"Karin and Nagato are my cousins. Their sister was to be my 'promised one' when I returned to the islands. That's a complicated mess if ever there was one." He said forlornly, shaking his head. "Either way, Wisp and I met when I came to land one day, though it was near Rivain her Clan had been wandering that area for a while, believe it or not she's only a half-elf, she's got her mothers figure."

"And the Qunari?" Asked Leliana.

"Kossith." Menma's growl told her she'd stepped into a spike-trap and must choose her words carefully around that area, let's she be snared.

"Kossith." Amended the Spymaster, "How did you come upon so many?"

"I rescued Kleo around Kirkwall, when I was visiting. This was before the Arishok went banana's and set the city alight. Her keeper was being a complete tool and tossed her control rod, when I found the poor darling it broke my heart to see such a beautiful creature tortured that way, so I took her away and murdered the Avaarad who was supposed to hold her. That'll warn those fucks." He snarled at the ground for a moment, stewing on the memory.

"And Adaar, his parents were Tal Vashoth, any more is not mine to tell."

"But you just told us of... Kleo." Cassandra pointed out.

"I told you the quick little story of how we met. How Adaar and I met is kinda jumbled up with his own history." The Pirate countered.

"What of the el- Wisp." Cullen quickly amended that when a sharp stare found his gaze.

"What more about her?"

"What kind of Mage is she?" He asked frankly.

"You mean has she dabbled in the 'forbidden'? No. We don't need Blood Magic, we rule the sea's with ice, storms and tides well enough." He expected this question at some point so he didn't get bent outta shape about it, didn't meant it didn't annoy him.

Cullen took him for his word, which was refreshing all things considered, then again the man never really stated his opinion on this whole 'Herald of Andraste' thing, so for all Menma knew he was one that was too scared to talk too much shit just in case.

Who knows. For now, work was to be done.

 _ **End of Chapter**_

 _ **Raxychaz!**_


End file.
